Dance of the Lone Spirit

The last night of every month a forest appears. With this forest comes magic, spirits and the dead. Many humans think they have a hold on the reality of all worlds, but they are so wrong. There is nothing colorful or shiny about magic. The dead don’t limp around as rotting corpses. Spirits don't look a thing like humans unless transformed. Spirits are all powerful beings meant to be feared, forced to supress their powers with masks if they wish to remain isolated. They perform rituals in order to remain existent in our world. Otherwise they would not have the strength to exist among so many of the living.

But there is really nothing to worry about, the only way to find the forest is to already know where it is. Well, there is another way, but you’d have to be really, really lost.

Max could remember every word his older brother had told him of the forest. Everytime he was alone he could hear them, reverberating throughout his skull.

Shaina’s endless jabbering brought him back to the present, but he was far too bored to listen. He hadn’t wanted to go in the first place; festivals and summer just wasn’t his thing.

His friends dragged him from booth to booth ignoring his obvious annoyance. Why had they made him do this again? They knew he hated social events and the heat of summer, so why bother with him? Easy, they thought he needed a night out to rid him of his summer blues. Might have worked better if they just let him be.

A variety of things were being sold throughout the festival. He remembered buying some cotton candy but he couldn’t remember eating it. He lost several times at the ring toss and other games, not like it really mattered. There had been more booths of course, but he paid them no mind. They weren’t nearly as interesting as the next booth over.

He hadn’t planned on spending any of his money, and he hadn’t wanted to spend it on a mask that he didn’t need. If you asked him why he would shrug and move on. First he had been walking around and trying to kill some time, next he knew he was wearing a silver fox mask. Something about it had just called to him. Whether it was the simple design or the gracefulness of the inlay, it didn’t really matter. He couldn't remember the vendor's face, just that it had been a woman, let alone remember the price of the damned thing.

There was no use getting upset over it, what was done was done, he couldn’t give it back. Max sighed his resignation, he might as well try to enjoy the festival. Slumped, he turned to his friends behind him. No one, they had abandoned him for a fan vendor six booths down.

Max sucked in his gut and did his best to maneuver through the sea of people. He was elbowed, shoved, stepped on and even hit in the shin by some old lady’s cane. Holding his bruised shin Max realized that his friends had moved yet again.

He did a quick sweep of the festival grounds, there was no sign of them. Wonderful, he was lost in a sea of sweaty stinky people at a festival in the middle of the night. Even if he escaped he would have no idea how to make it back home. If he wanted any chance of making it home he would need to find his friends.

Desperately Max pushed through the crowd, his heart pounding. He went around in circles, triangles and squares for what seemed to be hours. Breathing deeply he collapsed onto an old wooden bench, sweat beaded on his brow. He closed his eyes trying to recollect his focus, this was taking a lot more work than he would have liked. It was about time to leave, he couldn’t spend too much time sitting around doing nothing. His eyes flew open and what he saw was absolutely impossible. Before him where a ton of people had once swarmed, stood a giant forest.

No, there had been another, but he had never been able to find it. Well, at least not until now.

Yes, he remembered it now, or at least some of it. His mother’s boyfriend had hit him for getting rid of all his alcohol. He remembered running, it hadn’t mattered where, just as long as it was far. Eventually he had ended up in this very forest, small and scared. He had sat there for hours, crying and screaming for his mother. No one came or heard him, that or no one cared, so he screamed his voice hoarse. Even when he could cry no more, the tears still fell, but then a woman had come. Raven black hair, pulled back into a thick braid, she was beautiful even in memory. Her name was Lyra, and even though she had no idea who he was, she had been kind. With no knowledge of his name, she had calmed his sobs and tears until they turned to joyful giggles.

He remembered playing with her for hours and hours. Undoing her hair and then learning to put it back up just as well. He told her about his life and his father, his real one. She never spoke of herself, and instead listened intently to his stories. There had been flowers too, tons surrounding where they had sat. Max could just imagine what someone would have seen if looking on as a complete stranger. To people laughing, one holding a crown made of flowers trying with great effort to teach the other, she hadn’t been very good with her hands. So being the young and impatient boy he had been, he had made one for her. Then as the sun had started to set he waved goodbye and was on his way home, wondering why she looked so sorrowful.

The next day after school he had skipped his way back home, enthusiastic about going back and telling Lyra about school. He walked, soon his steps turned to skips, and then an all out run. No matter how far he went in any direction he saw no sign of a forest. Several days passed with no success whatsoever and he had decided Lyra and the forest had been a dream. But sure enough, here he was in the forest that he had lost so long ago.

A strange sound broke through his thoughts. It wasn’t necessarily loud, but it wasn’t so quiet it went unnoticed. It was a low hum that echoed through the otherwise silent night, covering Max’s mind in a haze. His thoughts were jumbled and confused, up was down, or was that left? Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. The song. That was all his mind could focus on, he needed to find where it was coming from. It was like a message, a scattered and static message. It meant something, he just didn’t know what.

With his thoughts muddled and his lungs too hot to breath properly, Max stumbled off to find the source of the song. His now useless feet tripped over roots and pebbles, branches caught at his sleeves and mosquitoes bit his skin. This was miserable, he didn’t even know where he was going, but one thing that he did know was the sound was getting louder. He was almost there.

He knelt, or collapsed, behind a bush just as the song reached its climax. Nothing happened. No song, no breeze, and no bugs. Everything had gone deathly silent.

Slowly, Max parted the shrubbery branches, careful not to make a sound. He had to see what the source of that strange music was, but what he saw only confused him further. A giant lake expanded before him, that wasn’t physically possible. The lake was far too big to have gone unnoticed by the public. But that wasn’t the confusing part. People, no things, were moving on top of the water. They appeared to be dancing, and their faces were concealed by masks. The masks were plain wood, and given no room for sight it was amazing no one fell. But it didn’t seem like falling would change anything, no ripple in the water or focus would be made. This was a place free of time.

Max wondered how their masks stayed on if there was nothing to keep them on. Maybe they glued them to their faces? No, then there would really be no way of taking them off. Maybe there was a thin string tied to the mask around their head that was only visible up close. No, where would the string go? Again and again he went back and forth with himself, he was so into his internal argument that he didn’t even notice the moon. It had turned silver, and the moonlight along with it. The figure that formed from the surrounding mist also went unnoticed. When the music played his breath stopped.

The sound that echoed from the flute was astonishing. Max wanted to dance, cry and sing all at the same time. Like the others, the new arrival wore a mask, but that was all they had in common. Her fingers danced over the flute keys and her body twirled to the beat. All the other masked creatures seemed to circle around her as she danced and played. Her thick black braid was interwined with fragments of navy blue, ribbons from her mask.

Small silver chains tinkled on her wrists and ankles with even the slightest movement. A sheet of blue silk cascaded down her slim figure, accented with thin scarves of black and indigo. Bandages wrapped around her almost bony arms like white snakes. Her feet remained bare, calloused from years of wear.

The woman dipped and twirled, not a single note was the slightest bit out of tune. Max couldn’t help but stare, he was completely entranced. Tears creeped from his eyes as the sorrowful tune continued on. It went on like this for hours, a week could have gone by and he wouldn't have noticed.

She turned. Her eyes bore through his fox mask and into his soul. Instantly the spell was broken. What was he even doing here? But he couldn’t find the will to look away. She smiled, her hand held out to him.

Slowly, Max pushed aside the shrubbery and approached the woman. He didn’t even realize when he started walking on water. Max looked at her outstretched hand, calloused and thin, and then at her face. He accepted her outstretched hand, holding it tight. Together they danced through the night to the songs of the other masked ones. Alone the notes were hollow and sorrowful, but together they formed a harmonious melody.

Her flute was now gone with the mist, dissipating when Max had accepted her invitation. Each step was unplanned and random, but they seemed to work wonders when together. It was so easy to dance with her, she was warmer than he expected, less alien.

His guard was slowly dropping. What he was feeling was indescribable, the strong feeling of wanting to see her face. It was almost like an obsession. He was about to take his mask off when his brother’s words echoed through his brain.

"Right before the spirits suck the youth out of their victim they remove their mask. What they do next is a little like kissing, but you die in the end. They used to bite people’s necks instead, that’s where the legend of vampires came from. You know how the times change and so do fads, well by observing human behaviour their soul eating tactic was changed into a form of kissing.” Well it was decided, he needed to keep his mask on no matter what.

That was right, he was in the disappearing forest, these were spirits he was dealing with now, he needed to tread lightly.

He needed something to distract him, the urge to just rip his mask off was far too great. He tried staring at the girl’s mask. He noticed that it was even simpler than his own, covering all but her mouth. Pure white, the mask was fitted to her face, silver lines formed simplistic designs that caught the eye. Snaking up down and along her bright blue eyes. Max didn’t notice when his hand reached up to touch her mask until she pulled away. Something small and white fell to the surface of the water making elegant ripples beneath their feet.

Max bent down to pick up the little white circlet. It was beaten and well worn and made of white flowers. How, how could after all of these year, it was still alive. That was impossible, but here it was, in his very hands. Lyra, that’s what her name had been, Lyra. Song. But Lyra hadn’t worn a mask when they had first met, why would she be wearing one now?

No, he refused to believe that she was one of THEM. After all, if she had been then why hadn’t she taken his youth back then. She would have gotten far more than she would be getting now.

"Lyra, what are you doing here? Why did you never tell me that you were a spirit?” Lyra didn’t respond to his sudden outburst, but Max could tell she was tense. “Do you even remember who I am?” No, of course she didn’t, he was wearing a mask after all.

Irritated, Max practically ripped off his mask. His angry eyes dark as the night and his pale skin glowed in the moonlight. Recognition gleamed in Lyra’s eyes, this was the boy that she had met so long ago.

* * *

"Come on Mom! Tell me what happened next. Did Max and Lyra fall in love like they do in fairy tales?” The little girl’s eyes bore into Lyra’s own. She had Max’s eyes and hair. Sadly she had inherited her mother’s impatience and stubbornness.

The little girl crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks. She wasn’t moving anywhere until she heard the answer. “I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like their story has ended yet. I guess we’ll see how long they stay together, your Daddy has been very stubborn lately.”

"You’re one to talk, you’re the queen of stubbornness.” A tall thin man leaned against the doorframe, smile lines surrounding his dark brown eyes.

"Daddy! Can you tell me a story? Mommy’s really bad at telling stories.” She was just like her dad, no tact whatsoever.

"Okay sweetie, would you like a story about a princess and a prince, you like those don’t you?” The little girl clapped and squealed in delight, Lyra couldn’t help but smile. He was just so good with kids.

But there is really no need to worry, they got their happy ending. Just in case you wanted to know.

(I think that I shall also make an alternate ending for those of you who like soul sucking and such. Hope you might like that too.)

*here is the url for the song that inspired me to write this piece. Sorry but the song's in Japanese with english subtitles. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wko-Iw49sHY&list=PL6B6745674A1ACC2F&index=1